Where Sanity Begins
by TexMurphy
Summary: Mysteries and faith. Rated for language.
1. Normal

Welcome back, readers. I know what you're thinking, so let me save you the time. Flavour of the Month is not dead. I just took a break from it and felt some other inspiration.

If you are offended by swearing or mild adult themes, feel free to stop reading now, for you may be offended. I do think the language used is justified in the situation, but, well, you were warned.

I tried to write a short first chapter to test the waters, but I just couldn't seem to manage it.

Be patient with this one, especially the first chapter. Some people will wonder what's going on. I hope the more astute will get some of the clues that I have left.

Well then, on with the show.

* * *

**Where Sanity Begins**

Chapter 01

"What're you in for?"

"In for…?"

"Yeah, you know…"

"I…"

"Oh sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Emily," declared the frizzy haired girl in a very matter of fact way. Her grin caused her silver braces to catch the diluted sunlight causing an involuntary squint from all who were caught by it.

"Christ, take those fucking things out," scolded the fitting owner of an irritable, throaty voice to the left. A look of distain shot from the dark eyes of an apparently malnourished blonde teenager.

"Settle down girls." A black, middle aged woman looked up from the clip board she had been studying for the past two minutes to call them to order with a carefully honed series of intonations and inflections. It was important to learn the correct level of confidence to exhibit; too much and the girls could become resentful and rebellious while too little may well lead to disrespectful behaviour. The group responded, settling into an uneasy calm.

"Whatever," snorted the scrawny blonde in a final act of defiance. She slouched into her chair and folded her arms, assuming the well practised posture of least respect for a figure of authority.

"That's Crystal," whispered Emily.

"So," announced the older woman after a brief interval, "who wants to go first?"

The uneasy calm quickly became a dead silence, punctuated only by the owner of one irritable throat and the squeaking wheels of an ill maintained trolley passing by in the adjacent corridor. Dianne, for this is how her name tag identified her, knew that the girls would be perfectly happy to just sit in silence for the entire session. It was the same as last Tuesday and would most likely be the same next Tuesday. Nobody much cared for the weekly group meeting, even Dianne on one of her rare bad days, but it was on the schedule so it would go ahead come hell or high water, or a reduction in government financial allocation. Besides, these girls needed a steady routine. It was good for their mental health, as was talking about their problems. "Anyone?" she prompted, scanning round the shying faces. They never did volunteer, but it was always good to give them the option. Who knows, she thought, someday someone might.

She stopped chasing faces when she happened upon one which did not retreat so readily. In fact it bared almost no sign of discomfort, or anything else for that matter. She pondered whether or not a response would be forthcoming. Either way, it might trigger others to participate. "Rose was it?" she asked gently.

A growing gap made itself felt between the question and anticipated response, drawing increasing levels of curiosity, boredom and impatience in equal measure from the group.

"I'm…. not sure why…" came the eventual weak reply.

"It's alright if you're not ready to talk yet," assured Dianne before taking some considered notes.

"It's alright," Emily added with a characteristic warm tone.

"Don't get too close to her Rose," sneered Crystal. "Funny things sometimes happen to people that do. Right Emily?"

Emily's hand suddenly tightened around the almost unused pencil she held, straining it almost to breaking. "There are a lot of things I could say right now that I won't," she said between gritted teeth.

"Oh come on," challenged Crystal with an almost playful malice. "We're all friends here, right?"

"Crystal, why don't you start?" interrupted Dianne, setting the conversation back on the intended track.

"Aw come on, Dianne. This is bullshit!" protested Crystal.

"Why is this bullshit, Crystal?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"Come on," she complained, raising her hands, "I had to talk when I first came. Why does _she_ get out of it?" Her hand switched to an accusatory point at the stranger.

"Maybe she's doing some 'favours' already," muttered the rotund form of a girl sat to Crystal's left.

"So Crystal," prompted the older woman, consciously ignoring other comments and attempts to avoid the question.

"What?" she asked honestly. "What do you want to know?"

"Have you been eating your meals this week?"

"I already told Frank that-" launched Crystal into a clearly prepared defensive line before she was cut off.

"Don't want you pilin' on the pounds. If you turn into a fat bitch, I might not love you anymore," mocked a dark skinned girl who sat over to the right of the group with a wink of false seduction.

Crystal came to her feet instantly, fire giving her worn eyes new life. Her clothes, which hung loosely over her frail structure, served to show any doubters that her food intake was minimal at best and thusly destroy and defence she may have offered. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Sit down Crystal," Dianne ordered firmly, waving away a sturdy looking gentleman who had started to approach from his former position by the exit doors.

Crystal lowered herself down, not breaking eye contact with the other girl. "Please continue."

"Yeah, right. So I told Frank on Thursday that I wasn't hungry or anything, but he wasn't taking any of it, so-"

"So you threw the food on the floor and told Frank to…" Dianne checked her notes quickly, "go and 'fuck himself'."

There was a crackle of muted laughter from several of the girls. "Yeah well," shrugged Crystal, "he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Just the way you like 'em," jeered the previous antagonist.

"Fuck you," yelled Crystal, jabbing a finger in her direction.

"Litanya, please. Crystal, you've really got to get back to eating regular meals," Dianne advised earnestly. "It's for your own good."

"Right…" Crystal folded her arms, assuming the scalded child position.

"You know I don't want to have to have you force fed through a tube again."

"Right," she repeated, not listening.

"Well, as long as we're clear."

"Uh-huh." Dianne probed for some opening, but the barriers were up. The conversation was over until Crystal decided otherwise.

"Hmm. So, Emily," she switched focus, raising her eyebrows and taking a fresh breath.

"Yes?" smiled Emily nervously in response. Her eager to please attitude caused Crystal to groan, but her turn was over.

"How's the painting coming?"

"Oh, it's going pretty well," she beamed, "but there's something I need."

"To get laid," muttered Litanya from behind the hand that shielded her mouth. Crystal cursed herself for not jumping onto that one herself, but instead decided to respond with an expression which read, 'was that supposed to be funny?'

"What do you need?"

"Well, the paint set you lent me doesn't have a blue," Emily informed hopefully, rolling the pencil between her fingers.

"I'll see what I can do."

"What the fuck?" burst out Crystal with a strong indignation. "How come _she_ gets stuff when she asks for it? I never get anything I ask for."

"It helps that she makes reasonable demands," responded Dianne calmly.

"Yeah. Notice how she _didn't_ ask for hard drugs," interrupted Litanya scornfully.

"One time, that was one fucking time," Crystal grumbled.

"Well maybe you would like to take up a creative pastime?" suggested the older woman.

"Nah, that's not for me, Di."

"Dianne."

"Yeah. Dianne. That's what I said."

"Right." Dianne moved on from Crystal once again, daring to hope it may be the last time. "Karen. Did you sort out that problem you had with your medication?"

"Don't worry," assured Emily with a cheerful whisper. "It's pretty much always like this. Crystal gets all defensive about her weight or her hair or some other thing, and Litanya teases her about it. It's a regular cycle. They're both as bad as each other." She seemed genuinely excited to be imparting her version of events on someone who wouldn't tell her where she could shove it. "The one talking now is Karen. She says she lost her medication last Thursday, but I have it on good authority that she flushed it."

"Maybe you should give her whatever Rose is on," suggested Crystal. "She seems fairly out of it to me. Shit, give _me_ some."

"You know I can't do that," replied Dianne with a distinct lack of humour.

"Say," said Karen to Crystal, "wouldn't that make this your _second_ request for hard drugs?"

"Hey fuck you," Crystal retaliated above various sniggers. "You know I was just fucking around." She crossed her arms and scowled, angry and self conscious that the group would laugh at _her_.

"Okay. Anyone else?"

No response.

"Alison?"

Nothing, save for the familiar clearing of an irritated throat.

"Alright then." If they really didn't want to talk then she guessed she couldn't force them. She knew better than that. "Well if anyone does need to talk, you know where my room is, right?" A half hearted series of coughs and groans denoted a loose acknowledgement, if only to hasten her departure.

Dianne slowly came to her feet, steadying her portly frame. The aged wood of the chair creaked in discomfort, but witty remarks of the like that might be aimed at Melanie, the group's resident eating disorderly, were markedly absent. Anyone who felt clever enough, or brave enough, to venture such a comment would not only earn the displeasure of the one woman who exercised total power over their lives, but would also earn no friends within the group itself. Even Crystal knew better than to call her on that one.

She nodded to the unexcited man, whose name tag identified him as 'my name is Harold', and pushed through the uninspiring hospital issue double doors.

A pressure almost audibly hissed from the room, moving bodies and mouths to more easy positions. "Phew," murmured Crystal ejecting a breath which fell somewhere between an unconvincing yawn and disappointed sigh. She reached into her jean pockets and fumbled around before producing a half empty packet of cigarettes and an inexpensive, blue plastic lighter. Flicking the cigarette into her mouth with a clearly well practised manoeuvre, she sneaked a glance around to see if anyone had noticed; particularly if anyone was impressed. On finding no clear evidence to that end, she returned her attention to lighting her cigarette. The lighter was cheap and certainly not the type of thing she would have chosen had she the choice, but it served the purpose. She could still tease a flame from the aged lighter; a trick lesser smokers seemed to have trouble with.

Emily watched Crystal lighting up her cigarette. She wasn't sure if it was her first of the day, although guessed it probably wasn't. Either way, she was at least looking less tense now, which usually meant she was less tense. Might make her easier to handle, Emily thought. Crystal flicked her dyed locks over one shoulder and turned to face her. The Crystal studying so far lead Emily to believe this wasn't going to be a confrontation, or even an insult. Was she going to spark up a conversation? That lack of malice in her eyes was a refreshing change, and one Emily was happy to keep for now. "Think she wants a drag?" she asked, holding forward her cigarette and nodding to the newcomer.

"Um, actually, I don't think she smokes," informed Emily with a soft, acquiescing tone. She didn't much like pandering to Crystal, but sometimes it offered the path of least resistance.

Crystal looked the unfamiliar body up and down, rolling her tongue around inside her mouth. It was hard to tell what was going on with this one.

"Whatever," she shrugged, retracting he arm and her offer, returning to her own thoughts.

Emily waited for a moment, making sure Crystal's interests were elsewhere before taking the new girl's pale hand and stroking it comfortingly. "You know, when Dianne, the black lady who was sat there before," she gestured to the central chair, "says 'room', she's not actually a resident here."

"No shit," added Crystal, who was contentedly creating and observing rings of smoke with a child like curiosity.

"They just say that so we feel like there's less of a barrier between us and them. So it's easier for us to communicate our issues and problems, you know?" she added with a smile.

"Yeah right," added Crystal once again, a familiar edge having returned to her voice.

"That is why they do it though," informed Emily, feeling maybe a little brave in the presence of her new friend.

"Yeah, I know," responded Crystal, turning her attention back to Emily. "But it _is_ bullshit, you do realise."

"No, I did not realise that."

"Man, I never knew they put people in here 'cause they were stupid," she said, rolling her head around mockingly. "If we're all so friendly with them, why doesn't she like me calling her 'Di'?"

"I'm sure there's a good reason," asserted Emily. She was aware that her apparent faith gave Crystal a good source of derisory material, but maybe that was why they were different, aside the obvious reasons. "It's for our own good."

"Right. Yeah." Crystal gazed around the small, faded white room. The walls were bland, the door was bland, even the 'attendant' looked pretty bland right now. As if that weren't bad enough, the bars on the windows were starting to look pretty ordinary now, too. She hated that she had gotten used to that. She would sit and stare at them sometimes, to try and remind herself how this wasn't normal. Not for 'normal' people at least. Unfortunately, all she ended up doing was staring at the space between the bars and finding some distraction. She tightened her fingers slightly around her cigarette as the feeling of being trapped moved through her body. She didn't really like it since it wasn't a pleasant feeling. In fact, the tightness of the chest was pretty uncomfortable, but it was a friend somehow. It helped her really focus on her situation. This was not normal. "Whatever," she replied dreamily, absorbed in thought, watching the wispy forms of smoke escape.

Emily observed her for a few moments, making sure she was as docile as she looked. "So, Rose," she said in a lowered voice and turning her attention, "I didn't catch what you said you were in for. I mean don't tell me if you don't want to. I don't want to be nosy or anything…"

"I…I'm not…" came the feeble reply.

"You're not what?" prompted Emily.

"Not in any mood to talk with you, I guess." Crystal had snapped back to reality, and was now interested once again.

"No, I don't think that was what she was going to say," responded Emily firmly.

"No shit, eh? Well maybe not. How about 'I'm not getting enough good drugs'?" Emily gave a disapproving look, but Crystal continued regardless. "Because, when I was on the good shit, I knew that if I could feel anything, I wasn't on enough." She took a brief pause to take another drag from her cigarette allowing her right sleeve to drop slightly, showing the unavoidable signs of a troubled mind wearing on a troubled body. She caught Emily looking and quickly pulled up her sleeve, half heartedly pretending she was rubbing some pain on her wrist. "I got downgraded to the blue pills last week. I don't remember what they're called," continued Crystal in her heavily one sided conversation. "They told me it was more like an upgrade, since the less heavy drugs I need, the better I'm getting. I don't see it that way, obviously. I could definitely go for a hit of whatever you're on though. That looks like some really good shit, you know?"

"I doubt she'd share it with you," said Emily, making sure her opinion was heard.

"Hey, you hear something Rose," asked Crystal, leaning a little closer. "Like… hmm," she waved her smoking hand around a few times, trying to come up with the right words, "like someone you _really_ don't like butting into a private conversation?"

"She's _my_ friend, you know."

"Hah," snorted Crystal. "Like fuck she is." She gestured an arm toward their all but mute acquaintance. "She's so far off her tits she doesn't know where she's at, never mind what day it is. How could she be anyone's friend right now?"

"Well, at least I take care-"

"Oh right," butted in Crystal, tapping her head as if having hit upon a revolutionary idea. "It's _because_ she's so drugged up that she would _be_ your friend." She took a deep drag on her cigarette and smiled with a smug satisfaction. "Make the most of it while you can because she's gonna drop you like a stone the second she knows what's what."

Emily seethed, almost involuntarily grinding her teeth together so as not to rise to the provocation. "Oh… why don't you just go and cut yourself some more?" she growled.

Crystal fixed her gaze on Emily, who tried to avoid it. She knew that was a stupid thing to say, but it was said now. No taking it back. The edges of Crystal's lips curled upwards and formed into a smug grin. It wasn't always easy to make Emily lose her temper, but trying was a hobby of Crystal's; and it was always worth it. It reminded Crystal that Emily wasn't any better than her, no matter what she said. In fact, she was probably worse because she couldn't even acknowledge how she really was, even to herself. "I'll do that. I'll make sure to cut a big 'E' right along here," she said, sliding up her sleeve and pointing out an unscarred region, "just so you know it was for you."

Crystal watched the two faces for a moment. One squirmed with unease while the other showed virtually nothing. Suddenly this was very boring. "Well, fuck you freaks," she said with as little venom as such a phrase can be delivered while taking to her feet.

"Just ignore her," advised Emily, watching Crystal approaching another group of girls. "Oh, look at this," she said in a very mothering fashion, waving away the smoke that had invaded their common personal space.

"She's just an angry person who strikes out at the world because she's not happy with herself. Oh, I know what you're thinking," she continued, combing some stray hairs from the sedate girl's face, "but I'm not like her. No, I'm here because my parents think I have a problem adjusting to new people. Like there was this thing at my boarding school, but it really wasn't my fault… but we're getting along fine, right? Me and you, I mean. And I'm nice to Crystal even if she isn't nice to me. Well, most of the time. I guess Dianne will see that I'm fine sooner or later and tell my parents to get me out. I know it's not fair to leave you all alone so soon after meeting, but people are only in here if they need help and I don't, so… well, just so you know."

Emily rocked forward on her chair while trying to balance her pencil on her top lip without the use of her hands. "Hey," she began as another thought came to her, "do you like to paint? Or draw? Or anything like that?" Ordinarily she would have given more of a chance for a response, but she doubted she would get one. "Well, I do. It helps me pass the time. Plus it helps me develop my hand eye skills and my creative side. Plus," she leaned a little closer and lowered her voice, "it shows Dianne and the other staff that I'm well adjusted and can get on with normal activities. I mean," she exhaled and leaned against the back of her chair, "I'm not saying I'm more normal than _everyone_ here, but definitely most. I know we're all supposed to be not all with it mentally in here, but there are definitely different degrees. In fact, Dianne was saying that there are some people where you can't even tell they have any mental disorder at all."

"That's fucking retarded." Crystal was back from her turn about the room. It seemed the rest of the crowd was equally inept at providing for her entertainment today. At least the new girl presented something of a novelty.

"And what do you think?" Emily tried to disguise the smugness in her voice. She didn't like trouble with Crystal, but she liked Crystal as a whole even less. Besides, if she could be baited into making a fool of herself then Emily wouldn't have to make fun of her, she'd be doing it all by herself. As far as she knew, Crystal didn't know anything about the subject, whereas she had read several pamphlets and talked to Dianne on numerous occasions.

"I think if _she_ can't tell if some people have mental disabilities or whatever, maybe she's in the wrong line of work."

"Well her point seemed pretty clear to me." She tried to play down her air of superiority, but Crystal could read the signs a mile away.

"It seemed pretty clear?"

"Yes…" Emily wasn't sure where Crystal was going with this, and her non confrontational approach only served to add to the confusion.

"But she didn't _say_ that."

"Well, not exactly…"

Crystal placed a hand to her lower lip and rubbed it thoughtfully. "But that would mean that maybe some people might be in here who shouldn't be."

"I don't know what you mean," replied Emily flatly, having seen now where Crystal had been going. They'd had this conversation countless times and never had they once reached agreement. Mainly, Emily thought, due to Crystal's inability to have a conversation without resorting to mockery or sarcasm.

"You mean that I know something you don't?" Crystal piped, clearly finding this whole conversation to her amusement.

"No," clarified Emily hoping she could, and quite faithful that she would, be able to utilise her superior skills of debate in wiping the look from Crystal's face, "what I meant was-"

"Shit," interrupted Crystal, noticing her cigarette had come to the end of its short but purposeful life.

"What I meant to say was that I didn't follow where your argument was going…" She tailed off as it was clear she had lost Crystal's admittedly short attention. "Are you listening?"

"Oh yeah sure," Crystal lied, moistening the business end of her next cigarette.

"You're not are you?" pressed Emily, eager to not have her point trodden into the ground by a hopeless nicotine addiction.

"Jesus Christ," complained Crystal sharply whilst attempting to coax her lighter into life once more. "I'm listening, alright?"

"Fine," huffed Emily. "I was just making the point that I wasn't admitting I didn't know something that you did."

Crystal narrowed her eyes in distain. "We're _still_ on that?"

"Well, I thought it was important to make sure-"

"To make sure you feel like you're smarter than me," jabbed Crystal, cutting straight to what she perceived to be the point.

"That wasn't it at all," denied Emily, visibly flustered.

Crystal, now satisfied with her fresh cigarette, took another good look at the new girl. "I just meant that…" continued Emily.

"She said anything new?" she asked, waving her cigarette holding hand the stranger's general direction.

"Uh," stumbled Emily, adjusting to the sudden change in flow of the conversation. "Well, I asked her what she was in here for."

"And?"

"She didn't really say anything," said Emily vaguely. She did seem to recall her saying some words, but nothing that was worth mentioning.

"Hey," called Crystal, clicking her fingers in an attempt to raise some sort of reaction. "Who d'you suppose colours her hair?" she asked half to herself.

"I guess she colours it herself," shrugged Emily, quite displeased with the continued interest Crystal was showing in _her_ new friend.

"I think she likes me," declared Crystal gleefully as the distant figure slowly rotated its head in her direction.

"Hmph, well she did that earlier with me…"

"Rose, right?" asked Crystal rhetorically. "Why are you in here?" She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if this new arrival were hard of hearing or not in total possession of her mental facilities. The irony flashed across her thoughts for a moment, but she let it pass before it came to a vocal conclusion.

Scanning carefully over the blank, expressionless face, Crystal found herself somewhat disconcerted. It was just strange, she thought, to have someone not react to you at all, no matter what you do. She could probably put her cigarette out on her hand and she wouldn't so much as flinch. Well maybe she would _flinch_, she pondered, but she wouldn't be mad about it or anything. "Kinda creepy," she observed, seemingly transfixed on the unfeeling eyes which gazed effortlessly through her. "I haven't even seen her blink once," she muttered with a curious awe. Was that even healthy, she wondered. Surely it couldn't be. "That can't be healthy."

"Um, I don't know," replied Emily uncertainly. "I think I saw her blink earlier. Maybe it's just-"

"Hold it," ordered Crystal, holding up a palm to Emily whose response was an offended folding of the arms. "She's trying to say something."

Crystal leaned forward, eyes squinted and presenting her nearest ear. She could have sworn she just heard something; a croak or a gurgle, accompanied by the slightest shifting of lips.

"I didn't hear anything," dismissed Emily.

"Did you say she said something earlier?" quizzed Crystal sharply.

"I said she didn't say anything in particular," Emily corrected, feeling that there were very few occasions on which making Crystal look, and feel, less than herself was not a good idea.

"Yeah, real clever time for a fucking argument," she snapped in response. "So she did speak?"

"Yes…"

Crystal sat back and pinched her nose, sizing up the situation. "It doesn't seem right."

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk," suggested Emily.

Crystal exhaled heavily from her nose in distaste. "Maybe," she mumbled, grudgingly conceding the point. It was possible, she supposed. "No, that can't be it," she said, shaking her head. "She definitely just tried to talk."

"Even if you did hear something, it could just have been a cough or something like that."

"I know what I heard," said Crystal flatly.

"Well… alright, maybe she needs a drink or something," ventured Emily. It could be that Rose was trying to tell them something. After all, she had tried to say something earlier. And it wasn't like she was agreeing with Crystal anyway. Instead, she was just showing that she was able to rise above their petty disagreements and put the well being of someone else first.

Crystal looked over at Emily with an expression that walked a fine line between grinding vexation and mildly impressed. Crystal was always at pains to admit when Emily made a useful suggestion. Emily was tempted to tease out an admission, but then she remembered that she was setting those thoughts aside for now. Crystal could be as immature as she liked, she thought, but she was going to have to act-

"Well go and get her one then," ordered Crystal impatiently.

"Actually," sniffed Emily, getting up and brushing down her thighs, "That's just what I was going to do anyway." She turned on her heel and strutted over toward the door.

Crystal watched her leave before returning her attention to the mesmerised figure. "I know you probably won't take this from me, but you really don't want to be friends with that," she advised, sitting back and flicking her now spent cigarette to the floor. "Rumour is," she proceeded, grinding the cigarette unceremoniously onto the featureless grey carpet with her heel, "she killed someone with a kitchen knife in a fit of rage. I don't know if it's true for sure, but she seems like the type, don't you think?"

She paused for a moment, as if expectant of a reply. "You know, if you keep staring at me like that, people are gonna think you play for the other team. Besides," she relayed in half seriousness, "you'd have competition."

"You know," mused Crystal, stretching back into a yawn, "they don't sedate everyone so heavily when they come in. I mean sure, they did me, but I was kicking and screaming a riot. Nothing I would dream of doing now," she smirked, adding a knowing wink. Surely this pale, inoffensive looking girl couldn't be as bad as she had been. "Well," she aired to nobody in particular, "they say it's the quiet ones you gotta look out for."

Crystal sat still for a moment, exhaling out of tedium. "You're one hell of a conversationalist, I'll give you that. Still, I suppose it's better than talking to-" She paused as the all but lifeless girl started to shift her focus. "Well shit," she exclaimed as she watched the head turn and hair flop down around the face. "If I'm that boring to listen to…"

"A…" uttered the girl in scarcely so much as a whisper.

"Now I definitely heard _that_," asserted Crystal, edging herself closer. "Do you need something? Like the bathroom?"

Another utterance escaped from her dried out lips, which Crystal did catch. "Er, sure thing Rose," she nodded uncertainly, looking a little perplexed. "I'll get right on that."

Her attention was drawn back to the door when Emily reappeared. "You didn't get the water," observed Crystal.

"Well I thought about it, but then I realised that Rose might not be able to drink it in her state," she explained in what was clearly a previously considered response. "So I went to Dianne," she continued, drawing only a rolling of Crystal's eyes, "and she said that we have to be careful when giving her anything to eat or drink."

"Yeah, yeah," butted in Crystal impatiently, "but what is Dianne actually going to _do_ about it?"

"Well, if you'd have allowed me to finish, I would have told you."

"Urgh," groaned Crystal, raising one hand to her face. "Whatever."

The impasse lasted for an extended and uncomfortable interval before Crystal realised that she had one card yet to play. Her hand dropped to her chin and her expression turned to one of cloaked amusement. "Well that's too bad," she said with as much regret as she thought she could get away with.

"What is?" responded Emily, taking the bait.

"Well, Rose was feeling a little more talkative while you were on your trip."

Emily's face betrayed her excitement, transforming into an elated smile. "What did she say?"

"Now there's a thing," replied Crystal casually, attentively inspecting her fingernails.

Emily's face slowly returned to the cynical expression she had worn previously. She saw what was going on. "Well, if you're just going to play games…"

"What?" responded Crystal innocently. "I'm not playing any games."

They locked eyes for a several seconds, each attempting to read the other. "Fine," growled Emily finally, realising Crystal was going to draw this out. "It's not that important anyway. Dianne just said she's going to send one of her attendants round in a minute to take Rose to her room."

"I see," breathed Crystal, returning to her nails.

"Well?" prompted Emily.

Crystal's eyes raised slowly to meet hers. She seemed to consider something for a moment before returning an intent expression. "Did you ever hear of a drug called Azarath?"


	2. New life, old life

Another chapter for you to enjoy. A little late, I know, but I have had a lack of concentration combined with the inability to be happy with my work. This is the third rewrite of this chapter. I am, at least, somewhat happy with it.

You know, it stuck me that people might think I have a fixation with incarceration. For those people I have no answer.

I know I didn't make it clear before, but I really don't own the Teen Titans. The work, however, is my own.

Thank you to all my reviewers. You continue to support me, and your words make it all worth it. This one's for you.

* * *

**Where Sanity Begins**

Chapter 02

Cold rays of the dusk sunlight broke through the time worn bars, casting features into the otherwise barren corridor. Crystal, who had been sat on the cold linoleum for what seemed like hours, watched the patterns intently. The shadows had almost looked, she had thought, like the keys on a piano. That was until the spindly fingers of a tree began to crawl across it, no doubt as a result of the heavy winds outside. They always told me that learning the piano would help my in life, she recalled with an appreciation of the irony. I guess they're eating those words now.

"Crystal?" came a familiarly annoying voice to Crystal's left. Emily, her cohort in this matter, had taken it upon herself to stay with her the entire time. Although, thought Crystal, she probably would have told a different story. At any rate, there they were, sharing the company presented by each other and the empty corridor, passing the time until something happened at the door opposite.

"Crystal?" repeated Emily, raising her voice slightly, while still retaining a tone consistent with that of a hushing librarian or a mortuary attendant.

Drumming her fingers on the floor, Crystal turned to face Emily, a cold, blank expression on her face; clearly in little mood to talk. "What?"

"How long do you think they've been in there?" she asked, gesturing an open hand in the direction of the door.

"Hm," began Crystal, raising one hand to her lips in thought. Given her daydreaming, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly how long it had been. The best she could figure was somewhere between thirty minutes and three hours. Perhaps it was time to invest in a good watch.

"It's been a while," said Emily impatiently, her eyes fixed on the room's entrance.

"Yeah, I guess," shrugged Crystal, running her fingers behind her ears.

"At least an hour," continued Emily, a clear unease in her voice.

Crystal shrugged once more; a token effort on her part given Emily hadn't seen her doing it before. Even given that, it was probably the most apt response in this situation also. Once Emily got into this sort of mood, she most likely wouldn't be listening anyway.

"I suppose that's a normal amount of time for this sort of thing," she babbled. "I saw one examination take all day, and I heard some take even longer."

It wasn't normal though, thought Crystal. She knew it and she knew Emily knew it, which was probably why she was acting so worried. It's probably not serious, she figured. Most likely it'll be Patrick taking one of his regular unscheduled breaks. Smoking or sleeping or something like that. Lazy asshole. Not that Emily would agree; she still thinks of him as some kind of saint. "Maybe Patrick's having his wicked way," Crystal suggested half seriously, poking around for some amusement.

"Patrick?" repeated Emily indignantly. "Somehow I don't think so."

Rooting around in her pockets for a cigarette and her lighter, Crystal shrugged once more. This time Emily was looking at her and had made her feelings clear. She was not amused. "I know he likes to come into girls' rooms and have a chat sometimes, but that hardly makes him some kind of pervert. In fact," she recalled, "he once told me that even dating a girl here would be unethical." Her face remained still indignant, yet satisfied. Clearly her views were not going to be easily challenged.

Crystal's face broke into a wide grin as she placed a cigarette between her lips. Shaking her head, she flicked the lighter into life and lit up.

"Oh Emily," she said, removing the cigarette and blowing they grey smoke towards her feet, "you are a naïve girl."

Emily sniffed. "I think you would have to be naïve if you thought someone could get away with something like that in a place like this. Besides," she said, turning to eye Crystal, "doesn't he give you cigarettes and stuff?"

Crystal bristled. "He brings me stuff sometimes, yeah," she said flatly. "What of it?"

"Well," ventured Emily, "do you give him anything in return?"

Crystal grunted and looked away.

"Well then," said Emily, a satisfied expression taking hold. "You should be grateful."

"Yeah, he's a saint," mumbled Crystal by way of a reply. Emily sighed, leaning her head back against the wall and fixing her gaze on the door opposite.

"You know, you're hard work sometimes," she said, her tone seemingly placating.

"Sorry?" asked Crystal, turning her head.

"Well," she shrugged, "I just can't figure you out."

"Yeah, well," said Crystal quietly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I know we argue a lot," Emily began, prompting an acknowledging smirk on Crystal's lips, "but, really, we get on quite well." She turned to see Crystal's reaction. "Don't you think?"

"What's this all of a sudden?" asked Crystal uncomfortably. Sure, she did hang around with Emily sometimes, maybe even more than other people, but… she sort of liked things the way they were now. She knew where she stood. Not exactly friends, but friendly somehow.

"Oh I dunno," she said as she stretched her arms and rose to her feet. "Just felt like saying it." She smiled, flashing her silver braces.

Crystal was suspicious, but supposed there were worse moods for Emily to be in. "You going somewhere?"

Emily pointed towards the door.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she said, taking several confident strides forward.

"But…" argued Crystal as she scrambled to her feet, "what if something's going on?"

Emily shrugged and raised her hand to the door, knocking firmly. Leaning forward, she pressed her ear up against the surface. "Hello?"

"Hey," came the muffled response. "Hang on a second."

"I don't think I like this side of you," whispered Crystal. It was definitely more adventurous than she was used to.

The door sighed open, and a tall young man stepped out, a confident smile on his clean cut face. "Emily, Crystal," he greeted.

"Hi Patrick," beamed Emily. "Are you finished?"

"Sure, you can go in if you want. Try not to make too much noise though; she's still a bit out of it."

"She asleep?"

"Like a baby."

"Oh. Can I go in?"

"Sure," he said, stepping aside to allow Emily to enter. "So," he said in a loose tone, stepping close to Crystal. "Alone at last."

"Trying your luck with comatose girls now?" asked Crystal, her posture and voice overtly hostile.

"Hey now," he said, his hand reaching to touch her face. She smacked it away.

"Don't… touch me," she warned. A flare of anger flashed across his face before returning to the relaxed, smug expression displayed previously.

"You play hard to get," he whispered, "but underneath you're just another whore."

"No whore of yours," she growled.

Placing his hands in his pockets, he leaned closer. "You know, your friend's pretty cute. Real nice piece of ass, ya know?"

"She'll never go for you."

"Funny," he said, nodding thoughtfully, "she didn't seem to have too many complaints."

"Wait, you mean Rose?" She attempted to conceal her surprise.

"Huh," he smirked. "Who did you think I meant? Emily?"

"If I find out you even touched her…"

"Then she'd never know and neither would you." With that, he flashed his well tended teeth and made his way down the corridor in the direction of the general office. Crystal watched him go, brimming with anger. How he could be so calm when he was going around acting like he was only served to enrage her further. Wasn't it bad enough already?

"Ghh," she grunted, letting out her frustration. If only she weren't so helpless. He held all the cards.

Entering the room, she found Rose lying peacefully with Emily sat to one side. It was hard to ignore Patrick's allusions, but there wasn't much she could do about it. As he had said, only he would have known, and so, unless she had another reason to believe it, it wasn't worth the trouble. He was probably just trying to bait me, she thought, her eyes absently surveying the sleeping girl. If there had been any funny business, it certainly wasn't apparent.

As was the case for most new arrivals, the room was in its default, impersonalised state. No posters, no decorations, just the bare, depressing minimum. Crystal stepped over toward the aged metal bed frame, which took a certain overt pride of place in the centre of the room. The only features beside that were a study wooden chair and bedside table, which sat to the left of the bed, and an old chest of drawers, at the foot. The look of it made Crystal wonder if it didn't all come pre-packed from some company that specialised in supplying depressing furnishings to mental facilities. Then again, maybe she'd just been here too long. "She needs some posters I think," remarked Crystal as she studied the second rate flaking paint work. "Or another lick of paint."

"Hm?" responded Emily, turning her head to address Crystal who was making her way over to the bed.

"I just said that I think she should have some posters," she said, taking a long drag on her cigarette whilst making a closer inspection of the girl. She was out like a light. "Don't you think?"

Emily shrugged. "I guess it could do with a little personalising."

"Is she asleep or drugged," asked Crystal. There was no intravenous drip connected, she had noticed, nor was there any obvious medical equipment. That still left the option of dosage via pills, which was almost impossible to detect from their standpoint. Short of prodding or poking her, of course.

"I don't know," replied Emily, returning her attention to the girl. "There's no drip."

"Yeah, but Patrick could have given her some sedatives, or whatever medication she's on."

"I suppose. Hard to tell."

Crystal observed for several moments longer, as if the answer might present itself somehow. "Well, fucked if I know," she said, marking her vexation with a heavy breath. "Why don't you give her a poke?"

"What? No," Emily protested, throwing Crystal a distasteful glare. "I don't want to wake her up if she's just asleep."

"Okay, okay," said Crystal, raising her hands. "Just a suggestion."

"Well, not a very sensible one," muttered Emily as she reached forward to comb some stray stands of hair that had fallen across the girl's face, threatening to slip in to her half open mouth.

Crystal grunted and angled her way along the bed to the chest of drawers. As she reached down to run her fingers along the worn, flaking surface, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of possessions this girl kept. What did she consider valuable? "I guess we don't really know very much about her, do we," she said, watching the sleeping figure absently.

"No, she's still a mystery," responded Emily thoughtfully.

"She could be anyone," conjectured Crystal. "Runaway, depressive, psychopath…"

Swivelling her head, Emily gave a disapproving look. "I don't think she's a psychopath."

"I don't see why not," said Crystal, gesturing, "I mean, look at that hair."

Emily rolled her eyes and turned her attentions back to the girl. Crystal was in one of those moods, she figured. "It's just not normal," continued Crystal, trailing off. Not normal, she reflected. Maybe she wasn't one to talk.

Well so it goes, Crystal thought as she clutched her almost finished cigarette, the circle of life. Or at least, the circle of life in this place. People came, often in somewhat mysterious circumstances, they were 'treated' and, if they got better, they left. She'd seen it before and she would no doubt see it again. Nobody could really be classed as 'normal'. What was it then, she wondered, that made her so curious about this particular arrival? She'd barely even said a word since she got here, yet somehow Crystal felt a duty to see that she was okay. Maybe Emily's mothering, interfering ways had finally rubbed off on her. She took another slow drag on her cigarette.

"Mmh," grunted the girl as she stirred.

"Crystal," alerted Emily.

"I know," acknowledged Crystal. They watched as the girl rolled onto her left side, then on to her right, trying to fight against the inevitable transition from the comfort of sleep.

Finally, she lay on her back and cracked open her eyes, her arms stretching above her head and her back arching. "Guh," she grunted as she relaxed.

"Morning," greeted Emily with a gentle smile.

Using both hands to shield her eyes from the artificial glare, she assayed the two figures carefully. "I'm Emily," ventured Emily, "and that's Crystal," she said with a quick gesture.

"Hi," said Crystal, introducing herself with a swift wave.

"Raven," she replied hoarsely before clearing her throat.

Emily and Crystal shared a puzzled glance. "Raven?" repeated Crystal.

"Yeah…" She studied their reactions, wondering if her answer had been somehow unexpected. "Why?"

"Well," began Emily uncertainly, seemingly unsure of what position her hands should take. "It's just that we were told…umm…"

"They said you were called Rose," cut in Crystal.

"Mm," confirmed Emily.

"Rose," the girl repeated, her brow furrowed. "And where is this?"

"Charendoff Correction Facility," answered Emily. That was never easy to hear, thought Crystal, who could remember the reactions of several newcomers, not least her own. Oh hi, I don't know if you remember anything, but you're locked up now. You could sugar coat it if you liked, but that was the bottom line, and you would have to get used to it. She allowed herself a discreet smile as she recalled how she had taken the news. Several attendants holding her down amid a flurry of nails, teeth and, even if thought so herself, bad language. Crystal watched on, her momentary amusement fading as she watched the girl's eyes as they searched for answers.

"It's… not as bad as it sounds," said Crystal. It probably was _just_ as bad as it sounded, especially to someone who had just woken up to find themselves here, but she felt she had to say something.

"It's not?" she replied in the tone Crystal had expected. The tone she might have given herself. How was it not as bad? What _were_ the upsides? What kind of an answer would she have accepted if the positions had been reversed?

"Well…" she started, hoping an answer would make itself known.

Sensing an opportunity, Emily stepped in. "Well at least you're comfortable," she said, managing to find one of the few positives of the situation. Crystal would usually think her a mindless optimist, but it seemed like it was the right way to go, at least this time. The girl nodded her head, partly satisfied with the answer but mainly, Crystal figured, because it didn't really matter. Whether they said it was bad or not, and whether she accepted that, wasn't going to change the situation. Besides, Crystal knew that this girl would have more pressing questions.

Rubbing her temples slowly, the girl said faintly, "I just… don't remember coming here…" Her face betrayed the fear her voice hid so well. But that she was afraid was no surprise. For once, Crystal didn't need to speak with Emily to know what she was thinking. She knew they were both thinking the same thing. They exchanged a momentary glance of futility.

"We can't tell you why you're here," explained Emily with a genuine sympathy. "We just don't know."

The girl pressed her head into her hands and rubbed her eyes. "There must be something you can tell me."

"Yeah sure," said Crystal, trying to be as helpful as she could. "You got here a few days ago, but you've been sedated pretty much since the start."

"That's probably why you're having a hard time remembering," added Emily. She reached forward and took the girl's hand, stroking it softly. With the other, the girl ran through her hair, pulling through a knot. Her face still showed confusion, but at least some of her questions had been answered.

"I guess that explains why I can't remember anything," she said with some small semblance of relief.

"It'll come back in time," Crystal assured. She knew that the entire memory of the event would remain largely obscured, but pieces would come together in time. At least, they had done in her case.

Nodding in understanding, the girl raised her head to address her new acquaintances. "So… this place…"

"Pretty bland, huh," said Crystal with an almost whimsical intonation as she took a brief turn about the room.

"It's not that bad once you get used to it," explained Emily cheerily. "And you can decorate your room any way you like. Well almost, there are some-"

"Actually," interrupted the girl, as politely as one can, "I was asking more about the place itself."

"Oh," they both said together.

Chewing over her words thoughtfully, Crystal said, "I don't want to say mental asylum…"

A flash of understanding crossed the girl's eyes, and Crystal thought instantly to correct herself, but Emily beat her to it. "It's not a mental asylum at all," she said with a sideward glare in Crystal's direction. "It's a medical facility where people come to get help." Crystal suppressed the urge to pick Emily up on her almost brochure like description of the place. People did come, but not by choice.

Clearly having picked up on Crystal's innuendo, the girl held Emily's eye with some misgiving. "But I can't leave," she said, summarising the situation.

"Bingo," said Crystal with a thumbs up. It seemed like this one was going to share her take on things. It was about time someone did.

"Well, no, you can't leave," said Emily, using her hands to convey that the conclusion she'd arrived at might not have been entirely accurate. "But people do leave. All the time."

"When they're better, right?" asked Crystal, adding her own brand of sarcasm to the mix.

"Well, yes, that's the case," explained Emily, having chosen to address Crystal's question as entirely serious. "People _do_ come here to get better." Before Crystal had a chance to add her own points, she continued. "I _know_ it's not always as simple as that," to which Crystal grunted, "but people do often get released, and are better for it. Whether people like to be here or not is beside the point."

Crystal squared her body, preparing for a full rebuttal, when the bed ridden girl spoke up. "And what do they do if there's been… a mistake?"

"You mean a mistake like…" began Crystal.

"Like you're not supposed to be here?" completed Emily with a genuine if not slightly over enthusiastic tone of understanding. Crystal raised a palm to her forehead, closing her eyes for an all too brief moment. She really should have seen that coming. "It happens sometimes," said Emily, continuing on. "People who are ready to be let out get stuck here. I think sometimes there are people who fall between the cracks in the system."

"I see," said the girl, stopping for a moment to consider the options. "So… who is it I have to see to get me out of here?"

"That's Dianne," said Crystal, as she scanned the area for a suitable location to extinguish her now spent cigarette.

"She's the one who deals with admissions and discharges," explained Emily.

"Not gonna happen though," said Crystal, as she ground the last remains of the cigarette into the worn surface of the chest of drawers.

Emily nodded. "There are a lot of tests you have to take. Psychological evaluations, personality tests… things like that."

"I'm sorry," said the girl, showing a clear frustration at her situation, "but I just don't have the time for all that."

"I don't really know of any other way…" said Emily, trying to remain empathetic. It was no use, thought Crystal. Clearly she wasn't going to accept it. Until she did, there wasn't too much they could do.

Something seemed to occur to the girl and became momentarily agitated, patting down her sides before scouring the room with her eyes.

Following the girl's eyes, Crystal asked, "Did you lose something?"

"I…," she mumbled before turning to face them both. "I can't seem to find my communicator. Have you seen it?" The blank look they extended each other made their ignorance on the subject clear. "It's… erm," she started, attempting to mould a shape with her hands, illustrating a diminutive, round object. "It's small and circular," she said, clarifying the gestures, "about this size. It's yellow, with a black circle on the front and a yellow 'T'." She continued to read their reactions, hoping to see a glimmer of recognition.

"Like a… mobile phone?" asked Crystal, still somewhat bewildered. She certainly hadn't heard anyone use the word 'communicator' in that way. Isn't that a military thing, she wondered. She definitely doesn't look like someone from the military.

"Yes, like that," she said, looking cautiously hopeful.

"Well, um," interjected Emily, "if you _did_ have something like that when you came in, they would have confiscated it."

"That's true, but there is a phone that you can use," informed Crystal. "They kinda limit who you can call, and sometimes they have someone stand over you… but… if you really need to call someone…"

"I do," she said firmly.

"Well," said Emily, turning to face Crystal, "I suppose we could ask Dianne."

Crystal shrugged and reached for another cigarette. "Could do," she said. If she needed to hear her situation explained by someone she knew before she would believe it, then so be it. I just don't want to be here when she breaks, she thought. That's always a place you don't want to be. Mind you, she pondered as she watched Emily's delicate dance of consolation and friendship overtures, she might never get to that stage. Some people never do.

"Alright," stated Emily, as if it had been her decision to make, "we'll talk to Dianne."

"…and will I be able to get access to my communicator?"

Shaking her head regretfully, she said, "I'm afraid that's probably not going to happen."

"I know it's your property," said Crystal, pre-empting what she considered to be the girl's next question, "and I know you're pissed off that they took it, but they did and there's not much you can do about it."

The girl gripped her hands together anxiously. Clearly the series of answers neither assuaged her unease, nor did they paint any adequacy on to the situation. Giving a frustrated sigh, she turned to face Emily, her face solidifying into a look of clear determination. "I need to be able to call my friends."

"Well, it's-" began Emily, clearly intending to repeat her previous point with an even greater clarity.

"Yes," she cut in, trying not to offend, "I know. But is there any way you could talk to this Dianne now?"

Turning to Crystal, she said, "What do you think? Think she'd agree to it?"

"What are you looking at me for?" she asked, displaying a distinct resentment. "You're her favourite."

Emily subdued the early stages of a grin. A smug one at that, figured Crystal as she watched on with cold, unimpressed posture. Yeah, she thought, you know it as well as I do. Crystal wasn't sure what Emily was trying to prove here, but she definitely didn't need _her_ help on how Dianne thought. She knew her far better than Crystal did, and had far more influence besides. "Well, I just thought I'd ask," she sniffed.

"Well…" Crystal shrugged, "why don't you go and talk to her then?"

Emily strained to her feet, straightening her clothes as she stood. "I will do," she declared firmly in response. "I'll go right now."

"Okay then. You do that," she said, cracking a smile as Emily marched past her. She was always so eager to please when you first met her. "It pays to keep her sweet," said Crystal.

"What do you think will happen?" came the reply of one more concerned with the outcome.

Crystal, who had been too preoccupied with conversations to light her new cigarette, finally found a suitable opening. "I doubt she'll deny you a phone call," she said as she struck up her lighter.

"I really can't stay here," muttered the girl to herself.

"Well, you won't have to," explained Crystal as she enjoyed that first drag. "If you're not meant to be here, it'll all get sorted out."

"I hope so," she replied, allowing herself the makings of a smile. It was a pleasant sight, and gave Crystal cause to feel a little better about herself. As much as she felt that pang of guilt in the back of her mind, she was sure she could justify her actions. She hadn't lied as such. If she wasn't meant to be here, it _would_ be found out sooner or later. The chances of that being the case, however, were a different matter. Actually, now they were alone, another matter came to mind. "Before you woke up just now, a guy was here…"

Looking somewhat puzzled, the girl replied, "maybe… I don't know."

"It's alright," assured Crystal. "It was probably nothing. You're okay, right?"

The response was a cynical raising of an eyebrow. No, clearly not, figured Crystal. "I mean, besides the tiredness and stuff; physically I meant," she clarified.

"I suppose," she shrugged, giving herself a quick check over.

"Right," nodded Crystal soberly. "I was just… you know." She looked around awkwardly, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

"Yeah," the girl replied, nodding also. The knowing look on her face told Crystal she had picked up on something from what she had said and, more importantly, how she had said it. The worried intonations combined with her clear unwillingness to get to the truth added up to rather obvious clues. Crystal unwittingly placed a palm across her face. Worrying this girl was the last thing she had wanted to do, but that plan had gone to pieces. As their eyes met loosely across the room, Crystal bit her tongue. She felt an urge to further justify her enquiries, but knew at the same time that it would give even more of the game away. No, that was definitely a bad idea. But what happens if she asks me outright?

"The… err… food here," she began, covering, "isn't not too bad."

"I really don't intend on being here long enough to enjoy it."

"Oh, right, hm," said Crystal, chewing the fingernails of the hand which held her cigarette. What an awkward conversation. Trying to ask her if she was abused when she doesn't even know, and all I'm doing is adding to her worries. "Look," she began hesitantly, "I'm gonna… make a move."

"Alright," acknowledged the girl. She seemed mildly concerned, Crystal noticed. Or thought she noticed. Crystal couldn't say much about her, but she would say this: she didn't give away much of anything easily.

Crystal made her way toward the door, turning as she reached the handle. "Emily'll be back in a little while."

"Okay."

Nodding to herself, Crystal stepped outside and brought the door closed behind her. Yeah, just tell her she might have been assaulted while she was asleep, she reprimanded herself, that'll make her feel right at home.

Glancing left and right, she let out a pent up breath before setting off in the direction of her room. Not that leaving her on her own is much of a good idea right now. What if he takes his chances and comes back?

She strode at a brisk pace, attempting to burn off the nervous energy that had gathered in her belly. No, there's no way. Even he's not that stupid. Besides, Emily would be back soon, and she'd keep an eye on her. Maybe they'll even get her that phone call.

Minutes later and several turns further on, she arrived at her own door. Although almost identical to all the others, it managed to coax a warm feeling in Crystal. The subtle differences, the marks and flakes around the edges, these made it hers. The only place she felt she could really relax. As she reached for the handle with a scrawny arm, broken memories of her own sedation gathered in her mind. I really was a handful, she thought with a smile.

Her mind swimming in times gone by, Crystal entered her room. Glancing at her warm bed sheets, she felt suddenly tired, not having noticed the tell tale signs that something was not quite right.

"Ooof," she grunted as a force thrust her forward towards the bed. She recovered her footing and spun round to face her assailant. Her body stiffened. She recognised him instantly.

"Hey," greeted the young man.


End file.
